Ice and Roses
by Dex
Summary: Poor Bobby has Emma on his mind, and his first date must survive Jubilee.


Ice And Roses   
  


All recognizable characters and settings belong to Marvel; I am using them without permission but mean no harm and am making no profit. The plot, however belongs to me. Any and all feedback is appreciated at dex@globalserve.net. Redistribution of this tale for profit is illegal. Please do not archive this story without contacting me first to obtain my permission. This story is dedicated to Kielle and Lori McDonald for accepting the questions and mistakes of a newbie and making this story all that it could be.   
  


Beast sat contemplating the gutted computer system before him, idly scratching his head with the power screwdriver and muttering to himself. He walked around the base and parts lying disemboweled on the white ground sheet and occasionally stopped to examine one closely before he resumed his pacing. With a sigh he launched himself into the air and caught the ceiling rungs with his prehensile feet, dangling over the system. It was then that Drake walked in, not surprised to see his friend cursing the uncooperative machinery while upside down. 

"Hank, what's the problem?" 

"The problem, my rather confused and unobservant friend, is the myriad components and diodes of the main security system of the mansion. This extremely complex and intricate computer is suffering from the final stages of a terminal breakdown," Beast snarled. 

"Can't you just wipe the system and reprogram it?" 

"Nein, mein freund, as my other blue-furred x-associate might put it. This system, to quote the vernacular,*is all fucked up*. Deceased. Passed on. Croaked. Toast. Kaput," Beast said disgustedly as he flung down his tools. " Not even the High Lama of the Bho could raise this singular electronic monstrosity from its state of expiration." 

"Oh, ah, does that mean you are free for an hour or so?" Bobby asked, fidgeting nervously. 

"Perhaps, what is the problem?" 

"I'll tell you at Harry's." 

"Is there something about our locale which is nonconductive to conversation?" asked Beast. 

"I need a couple of drinks for this," said Bobby. 

McCoy's eyebrows shot up with his friend's bitter statement. He leapt from his perch to the side of his friend. "Come, Bobby, we must away to Harry with utmost haste. And Bobby..." 

"What?" 

"Make sure you bring your ID." 

"Shut up!"   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


Harry's Hideaway was mostly deserted as they entered. A few patrons were scattered about the bar but the rush was still several hours away. Hank got the drinks as Bobby slipped into their usual booth. As he put the mugs on the table, Drake reached out and drained half of his in one sip. McCoy was now very concerned as he sat across from his friend. 

"Okay, pal o' mine. What is the startling revelation you wish to share with me?" 

"Hank, am I worth knowing?" 

"Of course. You have been a stalwart and dependable friend of mine for years. Why do you ask?" 

"It's just that all my relationships have failed miserably for years. I have yet to meet a girl who wants to stay with me. Even with the team, Warren has Betsy, Gambit and Rogue, Scotty and Jean, even the Professor has better luck with women!" Bobby finished the rest of his beer, staring moodily at the table top. " I just don't have any luck with women, and I can't get one out of my head." 

"And who is the damsel which has entrapped your heart?" asked Beast, leaning forward. Bobby started, looking surprised that he had said anything. 

"Um, no one really, just..." 

"Bobby, you can trust me." Beast patted his friend's shoulder. 

"Ah, it's...Emmphmpph..." Drake mumbled 

"Emmphmpph? Can't say I know her," answered McCoy with a grin. 

Bobby sighed and leaned back. "Emma. Emma Frost." 

"Oh, my stars and garters," Beast said softly. 

"I know, she isn't my first choice either, but I just can't seem to stop thinking about her." 

"Perhaps something left over from your identity switching days? A lingering psychic bond not of your control?" mused Beast. 

"How should I know?" Bobby flung up his hands. "I don't know what to do." 

"Mrs. Summers may be so kind to assist us," said Beast as he waved over Scott and Jean, who'd just entered the tavern. Bobby slid over to accommodate Jean as Beast joined Scott at the bar. Bobby scowled at his friend's obvious attempt to force him into telling Jean his problem. 

"Something wrong, Bobby?" said Jean. 

"Sorta. Jean, can a telepath leave a...residue behind when they use their power? Something that could cause a fixation?" 

"Not unintentionally. Why?" 

"I...I can't get Emma Frost out of my head. During the night I lie awake thinking about her and in the day I can't concentrate." 

"She might still have a connection in your head." she said as Hank and Scott sat down. "Hold still, I want to try something." 

Mentally, Jean reached out and entered Bobby's mind, slipping past the minor shields and defenses. She locked out his memories, concentrating solely on the structure itself. Jean hated entering the thoughts of her friends in the first place, and viewing Bobby's most hidden thoughts could damage their friendship. She examined the connections and pathways running through his mind, linking his consciousness together. After a moment she broke the connection, rushing back into her own mind. 

"So what did she do to me?" demanded Drake. 

"Bobby, there is no residue, no lasting connection, no rapport. Basically, your mind is your own." 

Drake's face twisted in dismay. 

"His mind is his own, but his heart belongs to the White Queen!" Hank whooped, doubled over in the booth. " The Iceman and the Ice Queen! A match made in heaven!!" 

"Hank, leave him alone," said Scott, but even the normally somber leader of the X-Men wore a smile. 

"This isn't funny!" shouted Iceman. 

"Maybe it is justified, Bobby. I remember you telling Jean about that talk I had with you about her when we were kids. I couldn't look her in the eye for a month." Cyclops smiled at the memory, his hand covering his wife's. 

"Or the photos of me changing out of my costume from around that time," said Jean. 

"Or switching my shampoo with Nair before my date with Trish," added Beast. "Let's face it, pal, you've been pretty nasty to us in our romantic foibles. Perhaps what goes around..." 

"Comes around," finished Bobby miserably. "So what do I do?" 

"Commit ritual suicide?" ventured Hank. 

"Hermitage?" said Scott. 

"Try calling her," said Jean, throwing a nasty look at the two laughing X-Men. 

"And say what? Hello, I've treated you like a villain the years you were with the Hellfire Club, and I threatened you quite vehemently after you stole my body. Can I interest you in a coffee?" Bobby said. "I'm sure that would just enthrall her." 

"You never know till you try. What's your other opinion? Sit and pine away for her for the next year?" Jean said. 

"I suppose. Maybe I'll ask her in person. Jean, can you and Scott give me a lift to the Institute?" 

"Sure, we'll drop you off. When do you want to go?" 

"No time like the present. Oh, and Hank..." 

"Yes, dear heart-stricken and romantic comrade of mine?" said Beast, his grin splitting his face. 

"Say one thing about this to anyone else, and I'll kill you myself." And he and the Summers left the bar. 

"Of course not, Robert." Hank smiled as he picked up the phone and dialed.   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


Emma Frost stood in the middle of the foyer of the Xavier School, dripping water onto the expensive rug. Her blonde hair was plastered against her head and her normally impeccable white clothing clung drenched to her figure. She was as mad as a wet cat. Actually, she was as mad as a wet Emma Frost, which was many times worse. That anger needed an outlet, namely those responsible. This meant that Jubilee was in big trouble. The near-empty bucket swung gently at the end of its rope, formerly full and attached to the top of the door. She began stalking to the girls' dorm when the doorbell rang. Cursing, she turned back to the door and wrenched it open. 

"What!" she snarled at the surprised Drake, standing on the patio. 

"Um, well...I..." he stammered, taken aback by not only her vicious mood but her still wet, now translucent clothing. For a long moment neither said anything, Bobby transfixed by her appearance and Emma too shocked to react. 

"Mr. Drake, can I help?' she said finally, ice forming on the edge of her words. 

"Oh yes, I...uh...I wondered if I could...well, I mean,...could we...uh...talk for a minute?" he choked out, tearing his eyes from her, swallowing hard. Emma caught the wave of his surface thoughts with her telepathic abilities. Apparently Mr. Drake had more imagination then she ever credited him with. 

"Why yes, please come in," Emma said, stepping aside to allow him access. From the corner of her eye she caught glimpses of Jubilee, Everett, and Paige clustered at the very edge of the stairs, peeping out over the foyer. 

"This way Mr. Drake." Leading him out to the sitting room, Emma sorted through the various thoughts racing through the mansion, picking up the psi-signature of Jean Grey on the edge of the grounds, heading away. "You will excuse me a moment, I have to...change." 

"Uh, sure... I'll just wait here then?" 

"Yes, whatever," Emma said as she left the room. First things first, she thought.   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"We are dead," moaned Everett as they bolted into Paige's room. 

"I can't believe you set up Ms. Frost like that!" said Paige, glaring at Jubilee. 

"You thought it was funny. Anyhow, the Ice Queen needed to be taken down a peg after flunking me in Spanish." Jubilee crossed her arms, glaring defiantly back at her friends. 

"If you had studied then maybe she wouldn't have..." 

"Shut up! She's coming!" Everett called, diving into the chair and scrabbling for his walkman. Paige flicked on the TV, sitting in front hoping to maintain the pretense of watching it. Jubilee stuck her nose into her Spanish text, hoping it would prove some protection against the fury of Emma Frost. The door swung open, with Emma standing in the threshold. 

"Students," she said, using the same tone as a homicidal manic says "friends." 

"Ms. Frost, ya could try that thing called knockin' don't cha'know," said Jubilee from the depths of her book. 

"Ah, Ms. Frost, can we help you?" said Paige, desperately hoping that Jubilee would keep her mouth shut. Emma noted that Paige's television viewing tastes had expanded to include midget wrestling...in Finnish. 

"Yes Paige, you can," Frost said, turning to the blonde-haired youth with a smile which would not be out of place on a shark. "You can spend the next week confined to the house, and tending to the odd jobs that have been piling up. Beating the rugs, waxing the floors, tending the plants in the Grotto..." 

"That's not fair," piped Jubilee. "We've done nothing wrong!" 

Emma flicked a strand of wet hair out of her eyes and glared at her. "You might not have, but nevertheless I am blaming you. Thus, the punishment stands." 

"Gawd, that is completely unfair! What happened to innocent till proven guilty?" 

"I am afraid you have mistaken this school for a democratic institution. Allow me to enlighten you, Jubilation." Emma leaned forward, coming nose to nose with her young student. "This is a totalitarian system with myself as the dictator. Understand?" 

Jubilee swallowed hard and nodded. 

"Good. Now I must attend to our guest," said Emma, dusting her hands. "I expect a start on those chores very soon. And Jubilee, your Spanish would improve greatly if you studied with the book right-side up."   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


Drake sat in the sitting room, mentally rehearsing what he planned to say. Her appearance had badly rattled him; even now he was plagued with images of Frost in the wet, see-though garments molding to her body. 

"She's a telepath!" he moaned. "She probably knows what I'm thinking right now...and if so, I'm a dead man." 

"Ahem...Mr. Drake?" 

Bobby turned and gaped. Emma stood at the threshold of the room clad in a white bathing robe which barely covered her. She seemed in danger of exploding out of it at any moment. Emma strode into the room and sat in a chair facing Bobby. He sat staring at her lounging on the chair. Bobby swallowed convulsively as she crossed her pale, perfect legs in front of him. 

"Mr. Drake?" she said again, snapping Bobby out of his fixation. 

"Ah, yes...um...well, I was thinking..." 

"Really? That's very commendable." 

"Haha, yeah. Uh, what I meant to say was that...well, you and I have had some...similar, ah, experiences in...terms...of...of...of..." Bobby's voice trailed off as Emma leaned forward, her robe plunging dangerously low. 

"Similar experiences, Mr. Drake? What exactly do you mean?" 

"Well...uh, the fact that we both...eh...have used, I mean occupied my body...er, powers...that I thought it...might, uh, be interesting to...you know, go somewhere and talk?" Bobby choked out. 

"Robert, are you asking me out on a date?" said Emma. 

"Well, no. Just to go out to dinner and talk and..." 

"That sounds very much like the textbook definition of a date." 

"Oh, then...yes." 

"Ah, very well. I accept." 

"Really?!?" 

"Yes, I thought I had made myself quite clear." 

"Of course...yes...well then...uh..." 

"I expect you'll pick me up at eight?" 

"Yes, eight is good, uh, perfect in fact." 

"Very well, till eight then, Mr. Drake." Emma got up and left, leaving Bobby to show himself out.   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"Are you getting all this, Mr. McCoy?" 

"Of course, Mr. Worthington. I may not have eyes like yours but the zoom lens does equal things out." 

"Are you sure we're going to get sound? That conversation was too funny to go to waste." 

"The pin mike I paid Angelo to plant should have done the trick. We'll know later." 

"We're dead, you know." 

"But what a way to go..." Laughter filled the woods by the Xavier school.   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


Jubilee raced down to the basement of the boys' dorm, tailed by Everett and Paige. Panting, she burst through the door, startling Jonothan who lay sprawled out on the couch. 

"Hey Yorkshire! I got a question." 

Ever learn to knock, gel? said Jono. 

"Don't give me that. The Ice Queen met with ol' Frosty today. I wanna know what they talked about." 

Why no ask them and leave me be. 

"Like she'll tell me, fer shore." 

"Did you pick up their conversation?" asked Paige, interested despite herself. 

I get a sort o' psychic resonance off everyone in th' house. But I don't wish to run across Miz Frost. She has more power and skill then me, and being put on forced labor fer months isna my idea of a jaunt out. 

"Come on, Crumpet, what's the deal?" said Jubilee. 

Alright, said Jono with a sigh and concentrated back to the time of Drake's visit with his total recall. Carefully separating the various mind waves, he isolated the conversation. He asked her on a date. 

"Bobby asked out the Queen of Mean!!!! That's too funny!!!!" Jubilee collapsed, howling with laughter. 

Yes, now if that's everything... Jono moved to close the door but Jubilee stuck her foot in it. 

"Not so fast, I need yer help tonight! Only you can trail Ms. Frigid and mask us. We are goin' on that date with them!"   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"Going out, Drake?" asked Logan from the doorway. 

"Yup. Just heading into town for a bit," Bobby said as he struggled with his tie. 

"Not doing anything special?" 

"No, why do you ask?" 

"Well, bub, that much aftershave nearly seared the scent out of my nose, so I figured that something was going on." Wolverine smiled. "Had to light a cigar to protect myself." 

"Yeah, well...I've got something planned but it's kinda private." Bobby's own nostrils rebelled against the scent of the Havana. 

"Sure, bub. Have a good night and say hi to Emma for me," said Logan, leaving with a smile. 

"How...?" muttered Bobby at Wolverine's back. He stood bewildered for a moment, then left the mansion.   
  
  
  


* * * 

Drake rapped lightly on the door of the school, nervously adjusting his tie. He was more unsettled then he had ever been in his life. The Sentinels worried him less then Emma Frost. 

The door remained closed for what seemed to be an eternity and he was just backing down the steps when it finally swung open. Drake stood transfixed, unable to move or respond. Emma Frost stood at the doorway, clad in a long white dress, in theory buttoned up from the hem to the neck, yet in practice on Emma Frost it showed more then it covered. The first six buttons were undone, forcing the lower ones to strain against her ample figure. The last dozen or so buttons were in the same state, revealing Emma Frost's shapely legs in a way that nakedness couldn't. Her long blonde hair tumbled carelessly down over her shoulders and back, careless in the manner of someone who spends four hours achieving the effect. Her blue eyes locked onto Drake's. 

"Shall we go?" she said, her left eyebrow cocked in amusement. 

".............." 

"Mr. Drake?" 

"Uh, yes! Please, uh.. This way." Bobby opened the car door, trying to shake off his paralysis."Thank you." Emma climbed into the car as Bobby walked around to the driver's side. If he could make it through this night, he thought, he could make it through anything. He smiled nervously as he climbed in and started the car. He noticed Emma's door was still open and her regarding him with a puzzled look. 

"Oh right. Sorry." Bobby dashed out of the car and over to Emma's side, easing her door shut. Rolling his eyes skywards, he know that making it through the night could be a good deal harder then he had imagined.   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"Okey, they're leaving! Step on it, Cockney! I don't wanna lose em." 

Gel, if you don't clam up, I'm going to toss you out of the bloody lorry. 

"Oh, excuse me mrbigshotigottalicinsesoithinkimgodroundherewithallthekidsandtheydont..." 

*groan* 

"Jubilee, Jono is following them fine. Jus' let him concentrate." 

Why did we bring Jubilee, Everett ? 

"Don't you remember? She threatened to cut off your cable, shave Paige bald, and glue the remains of her hair to my head." 

Ah, right. *sigh* I suppos' killin' her would be off-limits? 

"Uh-huh." 

Bugger.   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


Bobby pulled the car up outside the restaurant and dashed over to get Emma's door for her. She stepped out and looked at the building in front of her. 

"This is an eating establishment?" she said in a disbelieving tone. 

"Well, it may not look like much but it serves the best Middle Eastern cuisine in New York. I should know, I was here often enough with Opal." Ouch, thought Drake. I mentioned the ex. The kiss of death on a first date. God, why can't I keep my big mouth shut? 

"Ah, it comes well recommended then," Emma said dryly, enjoying the rush of anxiety which poured from Drake due to his major faux pas. "Shall we go in?" 

"Oh, uh, yes, of course." Emma regarded him for a long and awkward moment before he understood and dashed forward to open the door. "After you..." 

"Thank you." 

"Of course...uh, I have a reservation," Bobby nervously addressed the head waiter. 

"I have several reservations, sir. Would you care to specify yours?" 

"Drake, two for nine o'clock." 

"I don't seem to have you listed here, sir." 

"What! I made those reservations this afternoon." 

"Of course sir, but you don't seem to be listed in here." 

"Do you have a table available?" 

"Let me check...no." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Sir, I assure you we do not have a table smuggled away in the basement. What you see is what is available, and thus nothing." 

"Drake, it's okay. We can eat elsewhere." 

"But I made reservations here!" 

"I've made some reservations about this place already. Come, I know a good restaurant, one that has avoided the necessity of bribing the board of health," Emma said archly. 

"Madam, I assure you this establishment has no problems with vermin or insects." 

"Curious, considering that it employs them as wait staff." Emma turned and swept out of the lobby, leaving Drake to follow. 

"Emma, I'm sorry. I just don't understand." 

"Drake, it is not important. Turn down Forty-Second. I know a good place at the corner." 

"Can we get reservations at this time?" 

"Drake, you need to learn that for me, reservations are something that happens to other people."   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"Omigod! It worked! Look at Drake! Look at Frosty!" howled Jubilee from her seat. 

"That wasn't a nice thing to do to Ms. Frost and Mr. Drake, Jubilee. And just how did you convince them that you were M?" 

"Jus' gotta know how to talk the talk... *ahem* This is Monet St. Croix. Be advised that I am buying out the entire restaurant for the evening. Yes, of course. My credit card number is four seven eight two oh two-- Hey, what gives?" 

"You have M's credit card?" 

"No, just the number and expiry date." 

I could use a new guitar, gel. 

"You stay out of this!" 

"Hmm, maybe a new walkman..." 

"Everett, you stay out of this too!" 

"C'mon, Paige. It not like the M'ster will ever notice." 

"That doesn't make it right!" 

"Yeah, well...wait! There they go!" 

I suppose I 'ave to follow them, right? 

"Nope. We are getting to the play before Drake." 

"How do you know the whole itinerary?" 

"Asked Wolvie. How did you think?" 

"What do you have planned for the play?" 

"You'll see..."   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"Is the camera still picking up everything?" 

"Yes, although if you could maintain a slightly smoother flight, I can eliminate the constant wavering." 

"Sorry, the buildings create some vicious updrafts." 

"If it can't be helped..." 

"What now?" 

"Now, dear archetypal associate of mine, we adjourn back to the Xavier school to await the triumphant return of Mr. Drake and his companion." 

"Oh, the humanity!" 

"Indeed."   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


[system locked on mutant designate: Iceman] 

[system locked on mutant designate: White Queen] 

[preparing countermeasure programming and threat analysis] 

[confirmed] 

[threat threshold acceptable] 

[neutralize targets at optimum conditions]   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"That was amazing! That restaurant was packed and they immediately had a table ready for you! You didn't use your psionic abilities on them, did you?" 

"Of course not. I used a great deal of personal reputation and money. Drake, you will find that people will go to remarkable lengths to gain an extra few dollars, or to try to impress someone who they think will help them later." Emma looked a little bitter for a moment. "The world is run by greed, either for material things such as money or ethereal things like favoritism." 

"That's not entirely true." 

"Really. Can you prove me wrong?" 

"Sure. Why are you serving as a headmaster of a school for mutants? You could be maintaining your business, manipulating the stock market, seizing political power, and yet you spend your time and energy helping others. Can you explain that?" Bobby said. 

"I am trying to assuage my own guilt," Emma shot back defiantly. 

"Really? And you don't think you have accomplished that already? You saved a dozen children from being killed. Are the scales not balanced?" Drake smiled at Frost, who walked beside him in silence. "I think you have found something to believe in for the first time, and it scares you." 

"Scares me? Mr. Drake, I assure that nothing frightens me, least of all your crackpot theories!" 

"Of course," said Bobby, still smiling. He know he had finally touched something of the real Emma Frost. 

"And you, Bobby. Why do you risk your life, day after day? You have virtually no friends outside of the team. Every women you have cared for has been torn from you because of your duties for Xavier. Why is that duty more important to you then your own life?" 

"You know, I once asked Logan about that. Why we give so much and get so little? Why don't we just get on with our lives? Aren't our lives just as important?" Bobby grinned. "Logan turned and told me that our lives were personal, and that ain't the same as important. It's just easier to look at." 

Emma said nothing as Bobby led her to the steps of the theater. The conversation echoed about in her head. Not only surprised at the previously unknown depth of Drake, but at the nerve which he had touched in her. He walked ahead, opening the door with a flourish. 

"Madam, your box awaits." 

"Thank you, but I will join you in a moment. I must visit the powder room." 

"Uh, okay. Box 12." 

"Of course," Emma said as she swept away. Bobby smiled to himself as he climbed the steps to the private boxes. The evening had been going far better then he had planned. He had shocked himself by being able to talk to Emma without falling all over his words. Now, to the best show in town and a romantic drive home to top of a near perfect date. 

Bobby whistled an upbeat tune as he reached the box door. It was nice of Warren to lend it to me, he thought as he opened the door. His smile vanished as he stood paralyzed by the scene inside the box. Four blow-up dolls sat in the available seats, each garbed in white lingerie, reminiscent of the former outfits favored by the White Queen. Bobby groaned at the dolls, with the lurid "oh" shaped mouths and stiff postures. 

"If she finds these, I'm going to die," he moaned as he caught sight of Emma at the back of the theater, mounting the steps leading to the books. With frantic speed, he created a spike of pure ice, coalescing the available moisture in the air around his finger. Deftly, he plunged the "ice-pick" through the latex forms, releasing the air in each of them. At the edge of his senses, he could hear the footsteps of Emma coming down the carpeted corridor. Bobby snatched up the now nearly deflated dolls and rapidly dropped the air temperature in the area around his hands. The plastic grew brittle and broke into tiny shards which Bobby flung out onto the general seating as Emma opened the door. 

"Is there something wrong, Bobby?" she asked, having picked up the anxiety and desperation from the hall. 

"No, nothing at all. Why do you ask?" sputtered Drake innocently, ignoring the curses from the seats below him. "Please sit! The curtain goes up any minute now." 

"Of course," said Emma, still regarding him with a puzzled look. Bobby sat, a maniacal smile plastered on his face and fear in the depths of his soul. Oh man! he thought. What next?   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"Okay, that was cruel," said Paige as they bolted from the theater. 

"Ah, c'mon. We knew that Frosty would handle it. Besides, it ain't half as bad as what I got planned for the car!" Jubilee cackled as she ran down the steps. 

"What do you have planned for the car?" asked Everett. 

"Yes, lass, what d'ye hav' planned for the car?" 

The teens stopped dead at the sound of the Irish brogue. Slowly they turned to face their other headmaster, leaning casually against the school car, Jono sitting despondently behind the wheel. 

"Mr. Cassidy!" they said in unison. 

"Aye, and now I 'spect ye'd be tellin' me exactly what you have been doing out here?" 

"Well," started Jubilee. "We were on our way to the...bingo parlor when Everett had to use the washroom, so we stopped at the big theater and snuck in." Everett groaned behind her. 

"Really? And ye just happened to take the car without askin'?" 

"Actually, Jono took the car. We were just along for the ride," Jubilee blurted out. Jono scowled at her from the car. 

"Ah, so I take his car privileges away for a month and ground you till next summer. I now understand." 

"But, Mr. Cassidy--" started Paige but stopped dead as Banshee shot a look at her. 

"Aye, Paige? You were sayin'?" 

"Er...nothing sir." 

"Good. Now, everyone in the car. We are going home. Jubilee..." 

"Ja, mein fuerher?" 

"Give me the case of Silly String." 

"Bummer."   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"I know I parked just over here," said Drake, bewildered by the sudden disappearance of the car. The dim light of the street lamps had rendered the surroundings into a haze of black and white, murky in the twilight. 

"Perhaps it was stolen?" said Emma, somewhat annoyed by the inconvenience. 

"Arrgghh! It just figures! Stranded in New York without a car!" Bobby ranted, feeling unduly put upon by the universe. 

"The train is an opinion." 

"No, Warren lives a few blocks from here. I'll duck in and grab his spare keys." 

"Very well. Shall we walk?" 

"Not too many other options from here." 

"Hmm, Drake, I think you should know that I have had quite an evening," Emma started. 

"I know. I can't believe everything went wrong. Look, if you let me, I'd like to try to make it up to you," Bobby said pleadingly. 

"I don't think you quite understood me. I meant that... Wha?!" Emma was interrupted by the whine of a micro-thrust unit skimming down between the skyscrapers. She and Bobby looked up to catch sight of the Sentinel bearing down on them at high speeds. 

"Quick, get down!" shouted Bobby, thrusting Emma one way and himself another. 

"My powers won't work on it!" Emma shouted to Bobby as she scrambled for cover behind the parked cars at the curb. 

"I know! I'll draw it off while you get out of here!" 

"Like hell!" 

"Emma, there is no sense getting both of us killed!" 

"If I leave this in your hands, that is certain to happen," Emma shot back. Bobby sighed as he iced up, watching the Sentinel as it twisted about to continue its attack. 

[ Mutant designate: Iceman. Prepare for destruction. This unit is designed to counter your abilities and powers] 

"Great, not only can it counter my abilities, but it's been voice-programmed like a Volvo," snarled Iceman as he sped into the air on his ice-slide, meeting the Sentinel head on. 

The robot spread its metallic hands and delivered a burst of destructive energy at the mutant. Dodging frantically, Drake dipped beneath his opponent and caught it in the torso with a burst of ice. Encased, the Sentinel toppled from the air, crashing heavily into the street below. Iceman turned and skidding down beside it, pouring on additional layers of ice till nothing but a lump of frozen liquid was visible. 

"That wasn't so tough," said Drake, feeling quite pleased with himself. 

"Something is wrong here," Emma called out from her spot of safety. 

"What do you mean? One frozen robot on a stick, right here." 

"It said it was designed to counteract your powers. That was just too easy," Emma responded, walking up to Drake. "It doesn't feel right." 

"Well, if--" Iceman was cut off as the frozen shell behind him exploded in a shower of half-melted ice fragments. Emma dove for the curb as bursts of energy tracked her and Iceman. The Sentinel emerged from the rapidly liquefying remains of its prison. 

[ Temperature returning to optimum levels. Countermeasures responding at 98% efficiency. Termination of mutant designate: Iceman imminent] 

"Great, all I needed was updates." Bobby threw himself sideways from the barrage of energy directed at him from the robot. Catching himself, he quickly glazed another slide into existence, barely escaping the second burst. 

[ Mutant designate: White Queen unaccounted for. Nil threat level. Filed as secondary objective. Proceeding with neutralization of mutant designate: Iceman] 

"That I take offense to," said Emma, rising up behind the Sentinel, a steel bar from the construction site beside them in her hands. The steel bar rebounded off the back of the Sentinel's head armor, causing it to stagger and miss its target. Moving with dizzying speed, a hand shot out and grabbed Frost's arm, clutching tightly. Cursing in eight languages, Emma drove the bar into its right eye, showering herself in sparks. The Sentinel ignored the damage to its right eye and hoisted Emma from the ground. 

[ Termination of mutant designate: White Queen in effect] 

"Not likely, Robby!" said Drake, channeling a bolt of ice ramming into its back. The force knocked Emma from its grip. Emma rolled as she hit, putting as much distance between her and the Sentinel as possible. 

[ Mutant, you prolong the inevitable. All tactics and powers utilized by mutant designate: Iceman are recorded and counteracted. Defeat is 98.7% assured.] 

"Clinging to 1.3% is about my style. I guess I'll have to surprise you with something new," Iceman said, creating a thin sheet of ice along the ground. The Sentinel stood in the slippery surface, unconcerned by its existence. 

"Drake, I hope you have a plan," muttered Emma, lost on the purpose of Bobby's attack. 

"Not a clue," said Iceman, running the sheet to the edge of the foundation hole on the construction site. The Sentinel raised its hands and targeted Iceman, the ports glowing just slightly in preparation of discharge. With a motion Iceman liquefied the bottom of the ice sheet and drove a wedge of solid ice under it. The wedge created a wave in the sheet, the motion similar to the cracking of a whip. The Sentinel, unprepared for the maneuver, was thrown back heavily onto the sheet and carried down it, dropping down the three-story hole. It landed on its shoulders, damaged but functioning. It raised itself up, warming up its thrusters to return to the street. 

[ Damage threshold at 86% capacity. Nominal damage for unit. Re-engage and terminate mutant designate: Iceman. Mutant, your tricks are ineffective against..ssswwaaaacckkk--] 

The Sentinel was cut off by the impact of three tons of ice on top of it. The tear-shaped glacier sheared through the head and arm of the unit, the blunt end collapsing on the remainder of the Sentinel, crushing it. Bobby stood at the edge of the hole, looking down at the remains. 

"Counteract that," he muttered. 

"Drake, is it dead?" asked Emma, coming to join him at the edge. 

"If it is still functioning after that, I'm giving up." Emma smiled at his comment. He looked at her and sighed. "C'mon. I'll drive you home."   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


The car pulled into the darkened lot of the Xavier school, stopping at the front door. With a sigh, Bobby turned off the ignition and dashed around to get Emma's door for her. Frost stepped out of the car and stood for a moment at the foot of the landing. Bobby closed the door and wandered up next to her, looking despondent. 

"Look, I'm really sorry tonight was such a total flop. I guess the fates are against me or something. I'll just get out of here and you can forget this night ever happened," Bobby said, each word driving daggers into him. 

"Why would I want to forget this? I discovered that you are not a waste of humanity like I had originally thought. That has to count for something." 

Bobby looked puzzled as he attempted to determine whether the comment was an insult or a compliment. 

"But, I...I mean..." Drake stuttered at her. 

"So, how is next Wednesday? I do have some work to catch up on for the weekend, so it really would be the most convenient time." 

"Next Wednesday? For what?" 

"A second date, of course. Or have you decided that you are uninterested in me after all?" 

"Uh, well...I...uh...geez, er..." Emma relished the confused and bewildered look on Drake's face as he sputtered impotently. 

"Well...?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. 

"Uh, yes! Of course! I was just...that is I thought well,...I'm just going to shut up now." 

"A wise decision. Good night, Mr. Drake." 

"Yeah. Uh, good night Emma." Bobby turned and started down the stairs. At the base he turned to see Emma still standing at the top, looking at him. Confused, he climbing back up to her. "Uh, did I forget something?" 

"Not necessarily. But a good-night kiss at the end of a first date is customary." 

"..........." 

"Oh, for heaven's sake!"   
  
  
  


The kiss was not an earth-shattering or unbelievably passionate one. It did not last for hours or cause worlds to move and the heavens to rend asunder. In the history of kisses it would rate in the middle third, perhaps contending for a low rung on the upper third, but that was all. It was just a kiss, yet for the participants as it often does, it was without match or comparison.   
  
  
  


Emma smiled as she watched Drake drift down to the car, a grin plastered across his stunned features. She waved lightly at the car as he drove off and turned to open the door. She pushed the door hard, without moving from the landing, smiling as a bucket of water hurtled short and doused the area immediately inside the foyer. Stepping over the puddle, she wandered into the house, greeting Sean as she entered the kitchen. 

"So." 

"So?" 

"How was yer evenin' with Bobby?" asked Sean from the depths of a sandwich. 

"Excellent. Your evening?" 

"Quiet. Jus' keepin' the bairns in line." 

"Capital. Well, I am going to bed. Tell the group that I expect the chores started on first thing tomorrow." 

"Sleep well, Emma." 

"Goodnight, Sean." And the school descended into silence, broken only in the small hours of the morning by the successive sounds of Jubilee getting up to use the washroom, a splash and a scream, and the low satisfied chuckle of Emma Frost. Oh, and the slight creaking sound that an empty bucket swinging gently on the end of a string makes, though it probably isn't important.   
  
  
  


* * *   
  
  
  


"So?" 

"So what? What are all you guys doing up?" asked Bobby, as he returned to the mansion. 

"Just watching some home movies. How was the date with Emma?" inquired Beast innocently. 

"Just fine," said Bobby, disturbed by the grins of his teammates. A feeling of uneasiness began to fill him up. "What home movies are these?" 

"Der not importen', ami," said Remy, howling with laughter. Bobby walked into the room to here his own voice coming from the television. 

"Tell me, how was the restaurant?" asked Warren, grinning broadly. Bobby ignored him and walked to the television in time to see himself sitting across from Emma at the school, and in the middle of his talk with her.   
  
  
  


"Ah, yes...um...well, I was thinking..." 

"Really? That's very commendable."   
  
  
  


Bobby turned towards his friends with murder in his eyes. Beast and Angel both dove for the doors, laughing as they tore away from their friend. 

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" Drake shouted, racing after them. 

"You know, Mr. McCoy, we are in quite a bit of trouble." 

"Undoubtable, Mr. Worthington. But I for one feel that our endeavor is completely worth the sacrifice." 

"Absolutely," Warren responded as the two X-Men fled into the night, pursued by their scorned teammate. 

Like any good love affair, it ended with the ridicule of friends...   
  
  
  


FIN   
  
  
  



End file.
